Carry On
by Faith-o-saurus
Summary: Misery always loves company. A story of Katniss and Finnick, if Peeta and Annie were to die in Mockingjay. Rated M for later sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! Yes, I have started another story. I have become absolutely in love with Katniss and Finnick together (though Peeta and Annie both have to be dead for them to work; at least, for me). Mostly, I have become obsessed with Finnick, but that turned into KatnissXFinnick. **

**So, this story is based on the end of Mockingjay, but Annie and Peeta both died during the time of the war, and Finnick lived. Some things will be the same, but obviously very big parts of the end will be different (Annie and the baby, Peeta and Katniss).**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy! This will be a multi-chapter story, though I'm not sure how long I'm going to make it, yet. Probably most likely longer, than shorter. This chapter is more of an opener, so don't expect much action in it. It's pretty much just setting up the story-line and the changes.**

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They're gone. Prim, Peeta. Annie. They're _gone._

I had though Prim was the only one close to me to be caught up in the bombing, though I could not exactly take inventory while burning alive. When I woke up, the physical pain of my third-degree burns and the emotional pain of losing Prim crushed me. But then, Haymitch came to visit me. The fact that he was not drunk, seeing as he had the ability again, should have been a warning sign. Things _could_ get worse.

And they did.

He had sat on the edge of my bed, not looking at me once as he relayed what had happened. His voice was soft and quiet as he told me, that after I had been engulfed in flames, Peeta had tried to come up to me. He got pushed closer to the pit, though, and there was one bomb left from Coin. He was caught in it. I cried silent tears because I could not bear to lose anymore.

It hurt so much more when I realized that I was in love with him, and he didn't know when he died. He died, not knowing the truth. I will never forgive myself for that.

After that, Haymitch had told me that Annie had died in District 13 while we were all in the Capitol; Snow had fed her poison while in the Capitol, and she didn't even know it. No one did, until she became weak so quickly and there was nothing anyone could do. It amazes and disgusts me, the sorts of substances that are available in the Capitol.

Before, I didn't have anymore room inside of me to feel bad for Finnick, but now, it comes at me. We had almost lost Finnick during the war, so close that I practically saw his life flash before my own eyes. When he made it to the top with all of us – though he had a pretty bad gash across his neck and leg – it felt like a miracle.

Now I wonder if he would have been better off. Sometimes I wish I had died alongside the two people I care about most.

My mother had moved to District 4, without even bothering to say goodbye. This is a time to not hold grudges; everyone is in pain. If she were to show up on my doorstep right now, I would be able to find it in me to forgive her, because I don't know if I would have said goodbye, either.

Most of the time, I sit in the rocking chair with my knees drawn to my chest in my living room, right in front of the fireplace. Buttercup, that damn cat, will lie down in front of the chair, where my feet should go and stare into the fireplace whether there is a fire or not.

Greasy Sae stops by every day, forcing me to eat just enough to sustain myself. Sometimes she even gets me to go into the kitchen and sit with her, though we rarely talk. I think she's worried. There was a day where she told me about Gale. He's living in District 2 with a nice fancy job, and she said she's seen him on the television a couple of times. I figured there would be anger or longing, anything, but all I felt was relief.

The nightmares never leave, no matter how I feel during the day. If Greasy Sae manages to break through one morning, the night destroys all progress I may have made. They can vary, but most of the time they are either about Prim or Peeta.

I think about Finnick back in 4. I wonder if he sees my mother often, but if he is in the state that I am, I doubt it. We are both going through the same thing; perhaps my mother has taken on the role that Greasy Sae has, though; forcing him to eat, to be a human being.

I hope so, because he deserves it. He deserves to have family, even if it's not bloodline. He is even more alone than I am. I at least have Haymitch; not that I've seen him recently. It's funny how he is supposed to be keeping an eye on me.

My thoughts drift away from Haymitch and back to Finnick. I wonder if his house is on the beach. That would be good for him, I think. I'm pretty sure the ocean is like his woods. I also wonder if it is okay to miss him, just a little bit. He became such a good friend to me during the time that I was without Peeta and him without Annie. Misery loves company, after all.

I sigh and close my eyes, letting my head fall back to the cushioned back-cover of the chair. "Looks like it's just you and me, Buttercup. Aren't you lucky?"

He hisses at me and I snort. We sit in silence; there would have been a ticking clock, but I made sure that was gone the moment I got home. The silence used to be deafening, but not anymore.

I'm almost asleep, when there is a knock on the door. I sigh and get up slowly, so slowly that they knock again. "I'm coming!" I shuffle over to the door and open it a crack, expecting Haymitch. When I see who it is, my eyes widen in astonishment.

Finnick leans against the doorframe, no sign of the sultry man he used to be. "Hey."

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**Hope you enjoyed it!**

**Read and Review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the second chapter! Thank you all for the nice reviews; I've fallen in love with Katniss and Finnick together. It's odd, and I'm still hopelessly in love with Peeta and Katniss, but I just can't get the steamy ideas of Katniss and Finnick. Things will get very hot eventually. Not anytime soon, because that would be too fast, but it will happen.**

**And it will be hot.**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

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I place a cup of tea in Finnick's hands, and then sit down next to him on the couch with my own. I was so shocked to see him at my door, that I had just stepped aside at his first word. Let him through without any questioning; now that it's wearing off, I'm able to speak. "Why are you here? I mean, in District 12?"

He's looking down at his tea when he shrugs. "There's no one left. I needed company, and I know people here." No sultry smirk or even a wink. This is a whole new Finnick – or perhaps, it's just the real one. I think so, because this is who I saw in District 13, but we weren't in the best circumstances then, either. Annie would know.

I tap the side of my cup with my fingertips. "I mean…Johanna's in 7, isn't she? I thought you guys were good friends."

He sighs and sits back, glancing at me. "We are, but she doesn't know what you and I are going through. We just…helped each other in District 13. I thought maybe we could do that again."

"So you're here for me."

He raises an eyebrow, and somehow a smirk forms. "Yes, Girl on Fire, I'm here for you. Is your heart fluttering yet?" When he sees my expression, he lets the smirk fall. "I'm just saying, Katniss. Our instincts are to survive."

He has a point. I don't mind his company, either; in fact, I enjoyed our time in 13, no matter how grim that sounds. "You're right. Haymitch hasn't really been the best company, anyway." I roll my eyes.

He gives me a small smile. "I was actually thinking of heading over there."

I'm about to question it because why would Finnick want to see Haymitch? Then I remember; they've been victors longer than me. They know each other. I always seem to forget all of the other victor's connections before Peeta and me. And now I'm thinking about Peeta again. "You go ahead. I'll…set up a room for you? Unless you have somewhere else to stay," I say as I rise from the couch.

He stands up after and nods. "That'd be great."

I walk toward the stairs. "I'll make up some food, too." I stand at the bottom of the steps, and he stays where he is next to the couch. I clear my throat. "Or, I could come with you. I haven't seen him in a couple days, anyway." I'm not quite sure how to handle this situation, so maybe Haymitch will help. Maybe.

ooo

All he's doing is staring at us. Sitting in his chair, leg crossed on his knee, his eyes boring into both Finnick and me. "Joining the coo-coo nest, I see?" He's now only looking at Finnick, a smirk planted firmly on his lips.

Finnick snorts and smiles. "Three's company. Looked like you two had an open spot."

Haymitch guffaws and slaps his knee. "Well then, who am I to keep you? The more, the merrier." He turns to me, while planting both feet firmly on the ground and leaning his elbows on his knees. "God knows you need the company, Sweetheart."

I narrow my eyes at him and cross my arms. "I'm not the one who needs the keeper," I say, while motioning to the bottle of spirits on the floor next to his feet.

I was hoping to sting him, but all he does is laugh and wave me off. "I think we both know who the bigger threat to themselves is. No go on, leave me be."

I roll my eyes and stand up, glancing at Finnick. When he catches my eye, he stands up and walks behind me, out of the house.

"He's as charming as ever."

I look over at Finnick, who is walking along side me now, and offer a small laugh. "Oh yes, with that silver tongue of his." No, Haymitch never had a silver tongue. _Peeta_ did. He would be as charming as ever, making up for my flaws. The emotions are all of the sudden crashing onto me at full force, so powerful that I have to stop walking. I can feel the tears threatening to fall as I lay a hand on my chest. I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Hey." I feel Finnick brush away my tears, which makes me cry even harder.

I hate this. I hate that someone is here to witness my breakdown, besides Buttercup, and it's even worse that it's _outside_. "I need to get home." I smack at my tears and walk quickly to my house and through the door, collapsing on the couch in a heaving mess.

His hand is rubbing my back. "What happened?" His voice is soft, but not pitying. This is when I realize, it's because he's in the same state. I could say one wrong thing, something that would remind him of Annie so much, and he would be where I am right now. Having him show up on my doorstep might be one of the best things to happen. Either that, or the worst.

I sit up and take a deep breath. I turn to him, face tear-streaked, but I don't really care anymore. "Peeta always had a way with words, didn't he?"

Finnick nods. "It was impossible not to like him." He's smiling, and I almost smile back. I remember Gale saying something along the same lines, but his was more malicious. I'd rather not think about him, though.

"Yeah, impossible." I let out a breathy laugh, and then a sigh. We sit in silence, but it's not uncomfortable. It's relaxing. After a few minutes I heave myself off of the couch. "I really should get you a room set up, though. Do you have any bags?" I didn't see any, but I was so shocked when I first saw him that I could have easily overlooked it.

He shrugs. "Nah. Didn't really have anything of value."

I look at him incredulously. "Not even any clothes?" I've kept some of Peeta's things in my house, but I don't think I would be willing to lend Finnick any of it. He's too tall to fit in them, anyway. When he shakes his head at me, I shake mine back. "We'll have to go out, then. But then people will know you're here."

He raises an eyebrow. "I'm sure everyone will just be _ecstatic_ to see Finnick Odair." He's grinning.

I roll my eyes and slap him on the arm. "Don't count on it." I turn to go upstairs, probably just to put some clean towels on the guest room bed, but then feel his hand on my shoulder. I turn toward him.

He looks like he's sizing me up, but not in a harsh way. More like, checking my mental state after my little breakdown. When he's done, he smiles and pulls me in gently. "Thanks for letting me stay, Katniss."

I tense for a moment, then wrap my arms around his waist. "No problem." I clear my throat and pull away. "Get washed up, and then we'll go."

He nods, and I turn away to finally make my way up the stairs. The guest room is right next to mine, and when I walk in, I already see towels of all different sizes laid out on the bed. Have I really never bothered to come in here? It's not like I ever have guests. I bet my mother did this before the war. The towels must smell stale at this point, so I walk over and pick them up to throw them in the hamper. I'll wash those later; I'm sure Finnick won't mind.

I walk to the adjoining bathroom and pull some towels out of the cupboard under the sink to replace the old ones, and then place them on the bed. This takes me a whole five minutes at the most, but the faster we get out and get the shopping over with, the better. I look in the full-size mirror near the closet and realize that I'm not exactly stable-looking enough to go out. My clothes are days old and wrinkled, and my eyes are still puffy and red from crying.

I sigh and take the few steps to my room to at least try and freshen up. I throw open the doors to my closet and pull out the first thing I see, which is a light and wistful soft orange dress. I'm not usually the type to wear such things, but really it is one of the comfiest things I own; I ignore the symbolism of the color. I don't care if people find it odd for _me_ to have it on; all I want is comfort at this point. No one matters. I go to the bathroom and wet a washcloth with cold water, then hold it over my eyes. There are some eye drops in the medicine cabinet, and I use that to clear the redness. Once I'm satisfied, I run down the steps and into the kitchen.

Finnick is sitting at the table, staring at nothing, until he hears me come in – I'm not nearly as quiet as I used to be; well, I could be, but I just don't care enough anymore. He looks at my dress and raises an eyebrow.

I give him a look. "Don't comment. It's comfortable."

He raises his hands in defense. "I didn't say anything. I think it looks nice."

I stare at him for a moment, then head toward the door. "Come on. We need to get you some clothes."

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**Hope you enjoyed it.**

**Read and review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**So, this chapter is kind of just a filler. I really need to figure out where I'm going with this story before getting anywhere with the plot. **

**Anyway, enjoy the little bit that I have for you. Sorry for the wait!**

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"Remember; in, out," I say to Finnick, giving him a pointed look. We've just made it to town – which has grown large since the rebuilding, including actual clothing stores, though most people here cannot afford them. I'm not too familiar with where everything is, though, since I rarely leave the house.

Finnick nods and lifts the right corner of his lips. "Of course, Katniss," he moves closer to me, breathing in my ear, "in, out."

I move my head away and turn to stare at him blankly, though I'm trying not to laugh. It's good to see he can still joke, if that's what you can call his sensual behavior. "Finnick. Behave." I try my best to glare.

He raises his hands up in defense. "I'm behaving, promise."

I nod and start to walk toward the street full of various clothing stores. "It's going to start cooling off soon, so we should probably get some stuff to keep you warm. You probably didn't really have much of that at home anyway, right?"

He shakes his head, then lifts his head and perks up. "I recognize that store. It's Capitol, but not too flashy. It kind of reminds me of Cinna."

I suddenly can't swallow, images of the last time I saw Cinna flashing through my mind. Torn up and bloody.

Finnick must hear my struggling breaths, because he's moving in closer. "I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

I turn to look at him; his brow is furrowed. I feel bad, because I don't want him to think he did anything wrong, so I reach over and squeeze his hand quickly. I'm glad that it's still early, so town isn't too busy yet. "Don't apologize, Finnick. We've lost so much; it's hard to find words that won't remind us of…well, anything." I shrug.

He tries to smile and says, "This is very true, Girl on Fire."

I snort and raise an eyebrow. "Oh, I've retired that name. Most people just call me Mockingjay now."

He's smirking now, and shuffles a little closer. "Oh, I don't know, Girl on Fire is much feistier. What do you think?"

I roll my eyes and push him away. "Come on, let's go inside," I say, ignoring his question. I hear him hop in the door to come up beside me again. I take in all of the clothing. Most of the fall and winter clothes are in the front, since we're coming upon those seasons; in the back I see 'sale' signs with summer clothes hung around the circular racks they're attached to. "So, what's first?"

He's raises an eyebrow at me. "I'm just following you. Weren't you the one so adamant on me buying new clothes?"

I huff and turn so that I'm fully facing him, and cross my arms. "Yeah, because you brought absolutely _nothing_ with you. What, were you just going to sit around naked all the time?" The moment this comes out of my mouth, I know it won't be good. Regardless of our states, I'm still talking to Finnick Odair. After him playing the part for so long, the Capitol seductress side will never completely go away.

I know I'm right when his smirk turns into a grin. "Well, perhaps I was planning on it."

"Find some clothes," I tell him in a deadpan voice. Right as we steps farther into the store, the man working must have caught sight of us, because he is suddenly in front of me.

His hands are clasped in front of him; he definitely has a Capitol feel. His hair and skin are normal colors – brown and a pale peach – but his clothes remind me of a rainbow. Definitely not District 12-bred. "Welcome to _Emmanuel's_. It is an absolute pleasure to have you here with us. May I help you with anything?" It begins to unnerve me when he continues to look back and forth between Finnick and me. It would be completely unprofessional for him to comment, and he knows that, but anyone could tell that he's brimming with questions.

"We're fine, thank you," Finnick says in a pleasant tone, much more pleasant than mine would have been.

"Well, all right. If you need anything, please just ask." He bows slightly and then backs away, looking back at us every now and again.

I roll my eyes and look at Finnick. "Can't wait to see who he'll tell."

Finnick raises an eyebrow. "Tell what?"

I hate it when he plays these games. Hate it. I huff, before saying, "That…I don't know, that you're in District 12, and hanging out with the mentally unstable Mockingjay? Whatever they want to say."

He shrugs. "When was the last time you looked at the tabloids?"

I'm about to speak, then stop. I've never looked. "But, some reporters from the Capitol could come down to see what's going on, and-"

"Katniss, you need to calm down. No one is coming anywhere." He's rubbing my arm, which I can't decide if I like or not. I remember Peeta used to do that when he was trying to calm me down. "And what would they do? Knock down your door to make you talk?"

I snort and mutter, "I wouldn't be surprised."

He looks thoughtful for a minute, and then nods. "You know, I wouldn't either." He nods toward the back of the store. "How about we work our way from back to front? We still have some sunshine, after all."

I nod and let him lead me. "Go crazy," I say as I motion toward the racks. When he raises an eyebrow, I shrug. "I don't know your style. I'm just here for moral support."

He rolls his eyes and grabs my hand. "The Capitol has been dressing me for so long, that I don't really _have_ a style. I'm more looking for comfort, and you seem to know that best."

"Fine, let's look." I tear through the sale racks, looking for simple summer choices like sleeveless shirts and a variety of shorts. "I don't even know what size you wear."

He gently moves me aside and searches through the garments. "Looks like I'll have to do this myself."

ooo

By the time we get back to my house, we have both of our hands full of bags. Finnick moves ahead of me and leans toward the door knob, turning it only enough to have it click open, while making sure none of the handles of his bags fall off. He pushes the rest of the door open with his foot. "After you," he says while nodding inside the house.

I give him a quick smile and shimmy past him. "Thanks." I listen for him to close the door before I head up the stairs and to the room I made up for him. I walk over to the bed and drop the bags in a heap; too more piles are added as Finnick makes his way behind me. Perhaps a little too close for comfort.

I clear my throat and move past him, and look at the bright red clock next to the bed. "It's about time for dinner. How do you feel about rabbit stew and mashed katniss roots?"

He turns with an eyebrow raised, and then a mischievous grin makes its way to his lips. "Oh, I wouldn't mind eating katniss at all." His words are sickeningly sweet, and I can't help but roll my eyes.

"Finnick, stop," I say and try my best to scowl, but the slight gleam in his eyes makes it impossible to be mad. It's humor. How long has it been since we've felt that? In the end, I'm biting my lip to hold back a smile, while staring at his brightened face. "I'm going to start cooking." I turn from him and head out of the room.

"I'll help," I hear him say, and then his light footsteps behind me. He's obviously not as quiet as me, but not as loud as Peeta, either.

I'm not about to go down that path again, so I blink away any negative thoughts and jump from the last two steps, heading right and straight into the kitchen. Unfortunately, I almost trip due to one ugly orange cat lying in the middle of the floor. "Dammit!"

Buttercup hisses at me, his ears flat against his head, and I glare at him, neither of us willing to back down. Damn stubborn cat. Ugly cat, too.

"Well, who's this?"

I glance over at Finnick, who approaches the cat, bending down and slicking back the fur on his back. I watch in astonishment as he calms Buttercup down. He looks up at me with a smile. "Nice cat you've got here."

I look at the thing with frustration, then back at Finnick. "That thing is anything but nice. I would've drowned him if it weren't for Prim." I choke on her name, but try and ignore it.

Finnick is looking at me, searching my face, then smiles. "Well, no wonder he doesn't like you. I wouldn't be too fond of you, either, if you tried to kill me."

I don't remind him of the Quarter Quell. I was more than ready to kill him, then. I huff and walk past them, to the fridge. "Point is, he's vicious. Don't play to rough." Buttercup's purrs don't help my case. I shake my head and pull out everything I'll need to start up dinner.

"Why don't we invite Haymitch over?"

I stop what I'm doing and look at him. "We just saw him earlier."

He shrugs. "Yeah, but I doubt he'll be getting any nice meals anytime soon. Unless he comes over here, that is." He's looking at me imploringly.

I blink. "He's never come over before, so I don't see why now."

He gives me a look. "I'm guessing you never really _cooked_ until recently, right?" When I don't say anything, he smiles and nods. "Exactly. I'll go extend the invitation, and then I'll come help."

Well, can't say I can't wait to see what will happen. Haymitch needs to find his entertainment somewhere, and if it's not booze or Peeta and me, he'll have to settle for a replacement.

No, Finnick is not a replacement for Peeta. No one is a replacement for him. He's just barely filling the space. Never replace, though.

I'm absolutely sick of my thoughts. I just want to make a nice dinner, Haymitch or no Haymitch, and just _forget_. Just for a little while.


End file.
